


St. Michael's school for angels

by ThisBirdWithoutACage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- Private School, Castiel Needs a Hug, Castiel and Anna Milton are Twins, Cutting, Dean Winchester is Protective of Sam Winchester, Dean is a Little Shit, Drug Addict Castiel, Drug Addiction, Everyone Needs A Hug, Family Issues, Family Secrets, John's A+ Parenting, Multi, Novak Family, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Anna, Protective Bobby Singer, Sam Winchester is the new kid, Samandriel is way too observant, Secret Society, Social Functions, They're Blue Bloods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-19 05:39:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8192242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisBirdWithoutACage/pseuds/ThisBirdWithoutACage
Summary: "A bond may seem like a beautiful thing from the outside but if those involved see it as a burden, it is nothing more than a shackle.""Some things are hard to explain but with you...I don't have to. You just understand! I love you, as though I have never loved before!""Everyone is born bearing but one wing. And no matter how perfect that person looks, they are always missing something. Their other wing."Everyone in life has emptiness, and they deal with that emptiness in different ways. Some drink it away, or carve it into their flesh. Others will get as high as they can to get a brief moment of release. The Novaks, as rich and powerful as they are, are no exception.Enter Dean Winchester and his brother Sam. Despite difference in privilege, they are no different. Even Sam can notice the emptiness in his brother's eyes. That changed when he introduced Castiel Novak to Dean. Dean didn't expect to fall in love. Castiel didn't think he could.





	1. Samandriel

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written something for Supernatural in really, really long time. I have one fic on FFN that is a Michael/Lucifer version of Flowers in the attic only with a lot of differences from the book/movie. 
> 
> Anyway, but this is my first one on AO3 and I have a lot of ideas for this one. Destiel is my OTP and I like Sabriel, but it wouldn't work for this story with age difference and all. Michifer is my other OTP and I just thought the idea of Balthazar and Samandriel to be cute. I am so looking forward to writing this! Don't know when the next update will be; I am a busy college student with other stories to work on but I promise I will not abandon this story for a whole year. That wouldn't be fair.

While the Novaks appeared to be perfect, Samandriel always knew there was something...off about his family.

Not in the sense that they were ill or anything of that sort (well, maybe they were; one could never know), but there was something different. He just didn’t know what it was. 

He did know, however, that he hated formal functions and would rather be at home watching Netflix or hanging out with his friends. Hell, even his part time job that Michael insisted on him getting seemed like a better use of time than attending this boring event.

The New York City annual fall Charity Gala, the second most prestigious event of the year next to the Charity Christmas ball in the winter. An extremely seclusive party that only the Blue Bloods of society; the Nouveau Riche were able to get into. Naturally so they could donate money to the charity they were sponsoring that year, but it was always talked about by other rich families and upper middle class people who were miffed that they couldn’t get in.

Samandriel didn’t know why; nor did he care for that matter. He pretended to look polite, smiling at other guests and making small talk. There were plenty of people he knew; plenty of families. Zachariah and his wife, Naomi, both whom were politicians in the mayor’s council. Inias who was in charge of a number of businesses that took in huge amounts of money. There was even Uriel, who recently been appointed the Dean of Medicine at NewYork Presbyterian Hospital, one of the best hospitals in the United States. All these people, plus many more, had deep connections with his family dating back to countless generations.

He didn’t know them, at least, not very well. A majority of people here were much older than him, with Michael being one of the youngest adults. He couldn’t relate with them. They all had a vibe he couldn’t understand; all smiling at him with a secret hidden behind their lips. Even Michael, for as long as he could remember, had that same look. Even his third oldest brother, Gabriel.

Putting those thoughts aside, he decided to take in the decor of the building they’d rented this year. The New York City Metropolitan club was a common place to host parties, and had one point been a Gentlemen’s club. A private social club, where almost all the families he s at the party had access to due to their stats as “Blue Bloods.”

With it’s lush red carpeting and gold accented walls, it was the talk of many in the city. One of the top most expensive clubs to be a part of, not to mention highly exclusive. Not just anyone could walk in, after all. He stared at the white table cloth, the expensive china and silverware set out in a precise manner that only an elite planner could match. While he was only fifteen and a freshman the private school he attended, he knew different wines and what went well with what. Being a Blue Blood had its perks, he supposed.

He looked down at the food that was present in front of him, a slight wrinkle of his nose evidencing his distaste. A gelatinous mound that quivered on his plate, as if it were still alive. “It’s Gelée of Sea Urchin with foamed asparagus,” a voice whispered his ear, their breath tickling the appendage. “Try it; you’ll like it.”

He picked up the spoon, manfully taking a bite and immediately regretted it. Taking a swift gulp of wine to get rid of the taste of sea urchin in his mouth. “That’s disgusting!” he exclaimed softly, glaring at the person next to him that dared to suggest he would like it. “Anna, why’d you make me eat that?”

“I didn’t make you do anything,” his sister, Anna, only mocked him with a quirk of her pale pink painted lips. “You ate that out of your own free will. How was it?”

“You already know,” he scowled, ignoring her teasing smile. He had almost forgotten she’d been sitting next to him; too distracted by his thoughts. He looked past her pale shoulder, a little surprised  _ he _ wasn’t there with her. “Where’s Cas? Didn’t he come with us?”

“Nah, he bailed right before we hopped in the limo,” she shrugged, tucking back a strand of her deep red hair. Even with a smirk on her face, he could see right through her. She was worried; she always was when Cas was away from her side. It was always present in her deep brown eyes, a feeling he could never possibly understand. “He’s out probably snorting coke or whatever it is people are doing these days.”

She always knew where Cas was. Perhaps it was a twin bond or something; he didn’t know. Anna Juliet Amelia Novak and Castiel Edward Novak, twins only a year older than himself and sophomores in St. Michael’s Private School in New York CIty. Notably one of the hardest private schools to get into if you weren’t a Blue Blood or had connections. Or a high grade point average and high I.Q intelligence. But that latter part was rare, so not many students who attended the school were of that level of intelligence. 

Though if he remembered correctly there was a boy transferring in next Monday. Sam...Winsor or something?

Personally, he hated the school. He’d been attending it since the seventh grade, forced to mingle with rich snobs who only cared about the latest trends and how much money their daddies spent on them. He was pretty sure he was the only student who attended the school who had a part time job; Michael insisting on him getting one to occupy his time with since none of the school activities interested him. In truth, it wasn’t as though they didn’t interest him, it was just the people in it. He disliked about 99.9% of the students there and the ones he didn’t mind were the ones Michael disliked and told him to stay away from.

Everyone in his family attended St. Michael’s. His oldest brother Michael had graduated nine years ago, with his second oldest brother Nicodemus following two years later. Then his oldest sister, Raphael had graduated the next year, with Gabriel following not far behind. The year after Gabriel, Balthazar graduated and high tailed it to London for whatever reason. Probably to party and sleep with whoever he could; it was so like his brother. Castiel and Anna were the only two left his own age and even then, they were lost in their own worlds.

It hurt, sometimes, the reminder that he was alone. 

Castiel and Anna had each other; they were never far apart for too long. Michael had Raphael, who often served as his assistant and second in command when he was away. Gabriel was always busy with that girlfriend of his, Kali or whatever her name was. Balthazar popped into the city at random times of the year, never staying more than a few days. The last time he’d seen his fourth oldest brother was at the New Year’s party from January. Now it was the end of September and eight months had passed since the entire family had gathered. 

“You might want to pay attention now,” Anna’s voice hissed in his ear, foot kicking his shin lightly but hard enough to get his focus back. “Michael’s going to start his speech.”

He turned his head to the stage, where his oldest brother stood at the small black platform with a microphone set up in front. He smiled to the audience, captivating them all with his presence. Not with charm; no Michael wasn't Nicodemus, but he had a presence about him that commanded everyone to pay attention. His very voice could bring everyone to attention; his own tone of voice enough to give inspiration.

Not that his looks didn’t help either. Michael was always clean shaven, with perfectly aligned white teeth and smoothly parted back black hair. In his new suit from some company he didn’t quite recall. Attached to his navy blue tie, was the crest of their family. A book, or maybe a tablet, with two words placed over it. Engraved in the tablet/book part, were five words he’d known since he was a small child. Words that had been instilled the moment he could talk. 

“Luramos vitam nostram in Deo,” Michael raised his wine glass in greeting, gaze moving around to every single person in the room. “Family, honorable friends, it is a blessing that we are all able to be in a room together once more. I cannot even begin to thank you enough for your generous donations to the American Cancer Society. Each year twelve point seven million people discover they have cancer. With your generous donations, let us hope we can lower that number with the money our doctors and hospitals will be using to find cures and better treatments to those with loved ones affected.”

He paused in his speech, giving a moment of silence to allow people to applause in approval. He followed in suit, clapping at his older brother’s introduction and praise of the loving “support”, these people donated. 

“Your generous support will help those affected by cancer and their families. I cannot even begin to express my gratitude for you,” he paused once more, giving that rare smile of his. It wasn’t a genuinely happy smile; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his oldest brother smile. It was a stage smile, one solely for events like these that seemed to win people over. Especially the ladies. “I sincerely hope you all enjoy yourselves this evening and remember why we’re all here-”

He stopped talking rather abruptly, eyes seemingly fixated on something in front of him. He hadn’t even noticed the doors had opened; how could he have missed that? He watched as Michael’s brow furrowed slightly, a clear indication of annoyance. His oldest brother hated to be interrupted when giving a speech, almost everyone who knew him knew that. So who would deliberately make him irritated like that?

“Well look who’s here,” Anna murmured, drawing close to him to not be overheard by anyone else. She didn’t seem to surprised, though a look of caution shone in her dark brown eyes. “I didn’t think he would come tonight.”

He peered over her shoulder in attempt to see who it was that walked in. Standing by the doors, looking at Michael with innocent piercing ice blue eyes, was his second oldest brother Nicodemus. Out of everyone in the room, he was the only man dressed in a white suit, with pristine white shoes to match. Hanging onto his arm with a coy smile on her red painted lips, was a woman with tumbling golden blonde hair and pale gray, practically colorless gray eyes. She dressed in the same color as he did; dress clinging to her body in a flattering manner. Nick hadn’t even bothered to fix his hair. It still had a messy look to it that only he could pull off. Some of the ladies and even a few of the men flushed at the sight of him.

He noticed Michael, staring at their brother with a mixture of irritation and something else he quite couldn’t describe. No, he knew what it was, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He glanced over at Gabriel, the most perceptive one in the family, but his fourth oldest brother was too busy making suggestive faces at his girlfriend of a few years now, Kali, a young woman of Indian descent. He had to roll his eyes at this. Did Gabriel seriously have no sense of discretion?

“Anyway,” Michael continued on, ignoring the interruption as Nick and his date took the table across from theirs. “I hope you all enjoy yourselves tonight and remember why we are here. So please, ladies and gentlemen, enjoy as tonight’s entertainment will soon begin.”

His oldest brother removed himself from the small platform, returning to his seat at the head of the table. Raphael immediately began to speak with him; saying something about his speech and what not. Gabriel continued to flirt with his girlfriend, who managed to keep a straight face despite his more obnoxious attempts. Their table, at least to him, felt especially small when he noticed the people sitting at it. Michael at the head, Raphael to his right and Gabriel to his left with Kali next to him. An empty space where Castiel was supposed to be, then Anna and him. He hadn’t even thought of who was supposed to be sitting next to him on his left. The name card was too far away for him to be able to read.

“Where is Castiel?”

He blinked out of his thoughts once more at the question directed at him. He flushed, everyone's eyes on him awaiting an answer he didn’t know how to answer. He couldn’t very well just say, “Oh sorry Michael, Cas is too busy getting high or shot up with his friends. He’s very sorry he couldn’t come tonight.” 

No, Michael would not accept that answer. He would probably want to know  _ where  _ exactly their brother was so they could go get him later and then wait for him to detox. More than likely Anna would be the one to find him; she always knew where he was. Twin ESP. Weird.

“He’s,” he glanced over at Anna, who just stared down at her food with an expression that bordered on worry and fear. Worry on Castiel’s part that he might go too far and die and fear that Michael would be so furious to kick the boy out or send him to rehab. “He’s…”

“Go on.”

He hated it when Michael used that tone of voice. His very soul quaked at the sound of it, and the way Michael was staring at him made him think twice about lying. Michael would know; he always knew deception when he saw it. It made him seem almost inhuman; ethereal in a sense. He cleared his throat, wetting his lips while trying to think of a good (a.k.a. appropriate), answer to said question. “He’s…”

“Ah, hello everyone. Did I miss anything?”

There’s a man who swaggers over to their table, a glass of vodka from the bartender nearby. His heart rate quickened at the sight of him; for reasons he couldn’t quite place why. Balthazar Novak, the brother he hadn’t seen for several months, sauntered over to their table and took the seat right next to his. He didn’t look any different from the last time he’d seen him. Dressed a little more nicely than the usual clothes he wore. Tousled blonde hair and smirking blue eyes that remind him of the color of a pure blue lake. “Sorry I’m late,” he leaned back casually in his seat, downing the last of his drink before setting it on the table. “Traffic, you know?”

“Balthazar,” Michael nods in greeting, polite as always. “You look well.”

“Well, I woke up this morning from a menage a, what’s French for twelve?”

He flushed red from what his brother was implying, the rest of the table having mixed results. Raphael and Kali made a disgusted face; Gabriel snickering away as Anna hid her smirk into her napkin. Michael only rolled his eyes. “Must you be crass? We’re in public. At least try to behave like an adult.”

“I’ll try, but I make no promises,” he spoke lightly, sarcasm dripping from his tone. His blue eyes looked around the table, eyeing the empty chair. “Where’s Cas? Not here I see. Anna, you’re not doing a good job of keeping an eye on him.”

Anna just pursed her lips together, giving Balthazar a glare. “What he does is his own choice. I cannot tell him what he can and cannot do.” 

He could hear the edge in her tone, and he silently hoped that Balthazar wouldn’t push the subject any further. How aware his older brother was of Castiel’s problem he didn’t know, but from the fading smirk on the elder’s face, he could tell he at least knew that it was bad. The blonde glanced over to Raphael, who was in the middle of cutting her steak when he began to speak once more. “So I suppose it’s just about their time,” the blonde glanced over to him, that odd smile returning as the others stiffened. “You’re a Freshman now, right? Oh, and Happy belated birthday.”

“Thanks,” he replied flatly. Nice to know his brother cared. His birthday was three months ago, not that they’d done anything special. Sure he’d received plenty of birthday congratulations yet they felt empty. He felt empty, alone on his so called “special” day. Everyone in their penthouse was lost in their own little world. Michael always locked in office, Raphael in hers. Gabriel out with Kali somewhere in Asia and Balthazar in London respectively. Castiel, as he recalled, was so high that day he could smell the weed all the way from his room. He knew what Anna was doing; he’d seen the sharp knives she decorated her arms with. Yet there were never any hollow scars to remind her of the act she’d committed.

Samandriel knew there was something not quite right about their family. There was just no way of proving it. It wasn’t just his family, no, it was almost every single Blue Blood family in this room. The way they looked at him; looked at everyone around his age. As if they could see him,  _ truly  _ see him in a way that he could not see himself. When they smiled at him, he could see the secret locked behind their lips. Something he oh so desperately wanted to know.

For a moment, he briefly wondered if any of his siblings and other members his age felt the way he did. Alone in the universe without anyone to truly understand him. He wanted to run, to fly away from it all, but he couldn’t. There was something missing. Always something missing that kept him grounded to this miserable place. He could not describe what exactly was missing, only that he knew there was. There was no one to talk to about it either yet that didn’t stop him from wondering if the others felt the same or something akin to it.

His body flinched suddenly, out of surprise from Balthazar leaning back in his seat and wrapping an arm around his chair. The sudden close proximity made his heart start pounding in his chest, a faint pink blush dusting his cheeks. “So Sammy, how’s school been going? Getting into trouble, I hope.”

“It’s been fine,” he responded, albeit a bit awkwardly. “I don’t get into trouble at school, Balthazar; that’s more your department, isn’t it?”

Balthazar just chuckled and glanced over at Michael. “You just have them all so tightly wrapped around your finger. Terrified of big brother Mikey,” the look in his eye made his tone sound condescending and he instantly wished his brother would shut up. Michael was not someone you wanted mad. Not because he was the oldest but because...well, he hadn’t figured out why he didn’t want him mad but he did know that whenever he was angry at one of them, it made him want to hide. Anywhere, it didn’t matter, just far away enough that Michael couldn’t reach him.

Most of Michael’s anger wasn’t directed at him, anyway. It always seemed to be directed at two people: Nicodemus and most recently, Castiel. 

“Oh, Balthazar, I didn’t know you were back in the city. Finally get bored of the Brits?”

Well speak of the devil and he shall appear. He noticed Michael sit up a bit straighter in his seat, keeping his face completely relaxed with no sign of emotion. Balthazar just grinned and stood up, taking Nick’s hand and shaking it firmly before being drawn into a hug. “Bored of London? Never,” Balthazar released him, glancing back at Michael for a brief moment. “Bored of hanging around those demons of yours?”

If Balthazar was referring to Nick’s date, his second oldest brother didn’t seem to care. The woman just smiled, as if his brother had just made a funny joke, except the joke wasn’t funny and her smile seemed more predatory than friendly. “They serve their purpose fine,” he wasn’t sure what Nick meant by that, but it didn’t stop the chill of fear that ran down his spine. “I assume you’ll be heading back to London soon?”

“No, actually. I’ll be in New York for a while. You know, with that time coming and the hoopla that comes with it.”

He blinked in surprise at this, as did a few others at their table. He noticed Gabriel smile at this, for once not giving a smirk. Raphael didn’t look like she cared too much, but he noticed the small smile threatening to break her normally reserved face. Balthazar hated New York, preferring the European continent for some reason or another that the man had never fully explained. The second he graduated, he moved to London and started managing Michael’s international business affairs with their London division. It was similar to Nick, only Nick just walked out, settling up in his own penthouse and a business empire that in a few years was rivaled with Michael’s. He’d asked before why Nick walked out, but never got answers and was usually told to mind his own business. 

He noticed in the midst of conversation, Anna had slipped out. He silently wished he could join her; get away from the tense little family reunion that was going down. More than likely she went out to go get Cas, and if they both disappeared it would rouse suspicion. 

So he took another sip of wine, buckling himself in for a tense and uneventful night.


	2. Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's first day at St. Michael's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well we meet a few more characters and give more screen time to a few more. Thanks to everyone's who bookmarked and left kudos!
> 
> I finally caught up on season 11 and I must say, I was impressed. In my opinion, the past few years of supernatural have been kind of "eehhh, it's okay. Not great, but okay." Season 11 impressed me very much. Especially the way they handled God's personality and Amara's feelings. Plus, Lucifer acting like a spoiled teenager XD Now I just need Michael back and Adam in Heaven, so hopefully season 12 addresses those issues.

“So this is the school, huh? I was thinking it would be full of rich preppie blondes in short skirts.”

“Dean…”

He grunted as a hand ruffled his shaggy dark brown hair, face twisting into what his older brother called his “bitch face.” He brushed the hand away, his own fingers running down his bangs to fix the mess his brother made. His older brother just grinned obnoxiously, leaning back in his seat and staring at the school with skepticism. “You sure you want to go here, Sammy? Full of rich privileged white kids whose daddies pay for everything?”

“Come on Dean,” he sighed once more, staring at the school while trying not to feel too nervous. He had worked too hard to get here; he wasn’t about to let his own doubts get in the way. Or his brother’s skepticism. “I’ve been dreaming about St. Michael’s for months. This is a huge opportunity!”

“I know, I know,” Dean rolled his eyes at this, hands tapping absentmindedly at the steering wheel of his car. “Just, why  _ this  _ school. I mean, you don’t exactly fit in here.”

“It’s better than where we were; I didn’t fit in there either,” he retorts, adjusting his backpack in his lap, fiddling with the straps. “You wouldn’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like being the youngest person in your grade because you skipped two years ahead.”

“You’re right, I don’t understand,” Dean was looking away from him now, staring intently at whatever was in front of him at the moment. “I never liked school; not as much as you. All of this...it’s just different, okay? I’m not used to being away from Dad.”

He winced slightly at the mention of their father, trying hard not to feel guilty. He knew Dean was still shaken up, yet his older brother hadn’t spoken a word about what went down between them. When he told Dean he had been admitted to St. Michael’s with a full ride being paid for by a generous benefactor and that he would be staying with Bobby in the city, Dean had immediately packed up what little they owned and moved with him, leaving their father back at the house.

He brought a hand up to his face, grimacing at the pain in his right cheek. He noticed Dean looking at him, jaw tightening at the reminder of that night. Never before had he seen Dean that angry. Angry enough to hit their father.

“Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“You know you can call me if anything goes wrong, right?”

“Dean-”

“I mean it,” Dean cut him off, now staring directly in his eyes. He knew it was Dean being in mother hen mode, those weird protective older brother instincts flaring. “You call me if you need anything. You know, if you need someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on…”

“I’m not a girl, Dean!”

“Could have fooled me,” Dean leaned over once more, ruffling his hair again only to earn a grumble and a muffled ‘jerk,’ in return. His older brother just grinned, snickering a little before clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Go get ‘em Sammy!”

He rolls his eyes at his brother’s enthusiasm and opened the door to the car. His feet landed on the pavement with a dull thud, back pack now strangely heavy. Before he even could even shut the door, Dean leans forward and grins. “And see if any of those Private School girls are into mechanics!”

“Just go, Dean!”

“Don’t be a bitch, Sammy!”

With one last laugh, Dean guns the engine of his precious car and pulls away from the sidewalk, giving one last wave as he did. He watched as the impala disappeared from his line of vision, getting mixed in with the other various cars and taxi’s. He turned his attention back to the task at hand, staring at the school with pursed lips. He wouldn’t have been surprised if organ music just came raining down from the sky, signaling to everyone that he was probably, no, actually, out of his head. 

St. Michael’s private school had been founded in 1833 by a man named Michael Novak, the predecessor of the Novak family today. Located on Madison Avenue and Ninety-first street, across from Dalton and next to sacred heart. Prep school row, was what the street was endearingly known as now and as he stood there, staring at the school that resembled more of a house, he could feel a slight urge to run. What was he thinking? How was he going to fit in here with all these kids of higher class and nobility. Everyone here had known each other since preschool and stupid ballroom dancing classes. Now here he was, transferring to the freshman class barely at the age of thirteen.

The school had once been a home to a wealthy widow, but before she died she bequeathed her home to one Michael Novak to turn it into a school. Little had been done to transform the home. All the original furnishing and finishes had been carefully maintained for decades. It gave him the sense of walking back in time, especially with the life size portraits of Michael Novak and the widow hanging above the marble staircase, gazing down at the students with a hard and stern gaze. A baroque crystal chandelier hung in the winged ballroom that overlooked Central Park, and Chesterfield ottomans and reading desks had been neatly arranged in the foyer. 

Among the small changes that had been made, were the addition of a theater, gym, and cafeteria that only the freshman and sophomores used. Juniors and Seniors had open privileges that could easily be taken away with bad behavior or destruction of property. The attic had been turned into an art room and metal lockers lined the fleur-de-lis wallpapered hallways. Photographs of each graduating class lined the hallway to the library, or at least, this is what he had seen from the pictures his benefactor had shown him. His benefactor had graduated from the school himself seven years ago and in that time, had his own business that was one of the top companies in the world. 

He swallowed thickly, the weight on his back tripling. He had to maintain a good GPA if he wanted to stay at this school; not going underneath a 3.7. He had been a 4.0 back at home but this was different now. This school was notorious for being hard on its students and being one of the toughest schools to get into. One needed connections to get in; money wasn’t good enough alone. He had to show he was as good as these rich kids.

Geeze, as  if the peer pressure wouldn’t be enough.

He took another sigh, inhaling deeply before letting it out. He could do this. Dean believed in him and despite his joking attitude earlier, he was proud in him. Bobby and Ellen were the same, with the woman even making him a special breakfast before heading out. Her own daughter had graduated from a public high school last year and was now attending college on the west coast in San Francisco. He knew the distance caused an empty nest feeling in Ellen, so she gladly let him and his brother stay in her home while he went to school and Dean worked in Bobby’s auto-repair shop. 

His feet seemed to be glued to the ground as he stood in front of the school’s entrance. Students, all older than him, walked by without a single glance or spare thought. He felt his fingers curl by his side, heart slamming against his ribcage. He was a nobody at this school, just like he was at the last one he went to. Only at least there he had one friend, Barry Cook. Most people at his old school were either polite or ignored him. Being the youngest in the entire school wasn’t easy.

“Come on Cas! Get out of the car or I will drag your sorry ass out!”

His ears picked up the sound of someone speaking, his attention shifting from his own nervousness to the sound of an irritated girl. A limo, black and sleek like Dean’s impala, had parked right in front of the building. By the back door, a beautiful girl with dark red hair and clear pale skin stood with her hands on her hips. Tall, with a slender frame that most girls would die to have, or so he was told by Jo once when she showed him some magazine. In an oversized navy blue peacoat and black skinny jeans tucked into short black combat boots. She wore no makeup and if she noticed him staring at her, she didn’t say anything. Her hazel eyes were glued firmly to whoever she was glaring at. 

“Cas, we’re going to be late,” another voice spoke up as they exited the vehicle, a boy standing next to the red haired girl. “Michael will be mad if you skip again.”

The boy, maybe the girl’s sister, was a few feet shorter than her. With soft parted dark blonde hair and the same clear pale skin, he looked earnestly at the one figure in the vehicle he couldn’t see. Like the girl, he was fashionably dressed though not as much as her. In a gray and black flannel jacket with some band t-shirt underneath and blue jeans. He kept glancing back towards the school, occasionally looking at his phone to check the time.

He opened his mouth again to say something, but another tall boy stepped out and slammed the door. In a long black trench coat and a band t-shirt similar to the other boy’s, he certainly made a scene. Other students paused in their step to look at him but all it took was one glare to send them away. He had brilliant blue eyes, only emphasized by his pale skin and dark brown, almost black, hair. Around his eyes, he wore something that Dean called guyliner and in his opinion, it made his eyes look colder; like piercing sapphire. 

His long combat boots hit the ground with precision and other students cleared out of the way when he walked towards the entrance. He could only watch as the three of them brushed past him, forming a little v-position as they walked into the school. 

“That’s Castiel Novak, Anna Novak and Samandriel Novak.”

He didn’t expect a voice to pop up behind him and he jumped, turning his upper body around to get a good look at who spoke. A boy, a year or so older than him of Asian descent dressed in a light blue sweater vest and white button up shirt. He smiled shyly at him, black hair slightly undone by the wind. “Kevin Tran,” he extended a hand out to him. “I’m guessing you’re Sam?”

“Yeah,” he replied, taking Kevin’s hand and shaking it firmly. “Sam Winchester, I just transferred into the Freshman class.”

“Really? You look a little young to be in…” Kevin trailed off, blushing slightly as he narrowed his eyes at him. “...Right, well I’m a freshman too. What class are you going to?”

“Freshman writing with Mr. Surely. Do you know where that is?”

“Yeah!” Kevin’s face brightened, the tone of his voice changing from politeness to enthusiasm in a matter of seconds. “That’s where I’m headed! You’re going to love Chuck- that’s what he makes us call him. Seriously, he’s probably the best teacher out of the entire school!”

“Great. Lead the way, Kevin.”

He tried to ignore the queasy feeling in his stomach as he followed Kevin down the hall. He had taken his tour of the school Saturday and didn’t need any books until fourth period. There was slight relief that he met someone; Kevin so far seemed like an okay guy.

He just wished, and he would never admit this outloud, that Dean were here.

***

“Alright, so what do you think of the cello?”

He stopped poking his salad with his fork, raising his eyes at the unexpected question. Kevin looked at him enthusiastically, awaiting his answer. “It’s...okay?” he briefly remembered being in band once for a semester on the trumpet. Although he sucked, Dean still went to his concerts. “I mean, if you like it, that’s great-”

“It is,” Kevin grinned, taking a bite out of his ham and cheese sandwich. “My dad, well, from what mom tells me, he used to play the cello. I never met him,” Kevin paused, face reddening at the mention. “Sorry, we don’t know each other too well; I shouldn’t have brought it up-”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted the other boy, giving a half smile as he continued to stab the leafy vegetables on his tray. “My mom died when I was a baby; I never knew her either.”

“Oh,” Kevin looks down at his tray for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Like I said, I never knew her.”

“Well then, I guess that makes two of us.”

Their table is silent for a moment, both of them poking at their food with little appetite. He hadn’t expected the topic of his mother to be brought up, but it didn’t bother him as much as it bothered Dean. He didn’t know his mother, not like his brother and father did. All he knew were pictures and stories. No emotional attachment to the woman. It was cruel, he knew that, but his own thoughts about his mother were confusing enough. Not something he wanted to deal with right now.

“Okay, new question. Favorite t.v. show?”

Ah, a new topic. Good thinking, Kevin. “BBC Sherlock,” he answered without batting an eyelash. “I just got done with season two.”

“That’s my favorite show right now! Season three is going to blow your mind!” Kevin grinned, leaning forward just a little bit. “When you get home, you have to start the first episode!”

“I will this weekend probably. I have an appointment with my sponsor after school. Then I’m going to do homework.”

The other freshman nodded in understanding, taking a long sip of his bottled water. “I understand that,” Kevin sighed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m a scholarship kid too. I transferred here two weeks before you did and so far I’ve only made one friend. It’s hard to keep in touch with my friends back at the public school. Especially my girlfriend, Channing.”

“At least you’re not from a different state,” he countered, watching as Kevin weighed those options. “My brother and I left everything we knew back in Kansas before moving in with a family friend. He’s more of a father to me than mine.”

He thought of Barry and once more, he felt sick to his stomach. Barry had insisted he go to St. Michael’s; was one of the few people who openly stated how proud he was that he got in. He knew what Barry would be doing right now. Eating lunch by himself in their usual spot in one of the empty classrooms, hopefully avoiding the school bully, Dirk the jerk.

“I’m hoping to get into Princeton,” Kevin’s comment snapped him out of his thoughts, forcing him to return to the conversation at hand. “I want to become the first Asian-American president. I told my sponsor that and he kind of laughed.”

“Who’s your sponsor?”

“Crowley MacLeod, oh, sorry, Mr. Crowley. He goes by his first name most of the time,” Kevin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, as though the very mention of his name was a bad omen. “He’s kind of scary.”

“Scary?” well that was a weird thing to think of one’s sponsor. Weren’t most of them supposed to be nice, or genuinely interested in their welfare? “How scary can he be?”

“He threatened to cut off my fingers if I ever fail a test,” the boy shivered, fingers curling at the mere thought of being removed. Kevin grimaced before looking back up at him. “He’s not sponsoring you, is he?”

“No, God, no,” he tried not to feel sick to his stomach at the thought of poor Kevin being threatened. Even if he didn’t know the other boy too well yet, he didn’t like the thought of someone threatening him like that. “My sponsor is a guy named Mr. Novak.”

“As in Michael Novak?”

“No, his name is Nick; Nicodemus, he said,” he took another bite out of his sandwich, chewing while Kevin waited expectantly for more details. “I met him once when he wanted to meet in person after reading the application essay I sent to him. After that, when everything was all settled, my brother and I headed up here.”

He could only watch as Kevin’s eyes widened, the dark brown orbs staring at him in astonishment. “You got Michael’s brother’s sponsorship? Holy...do you know how rare that is? He’s only ever sponsored one student here and that person graduated two years ago. Wow, you must have really, really, impressed him. What’d you even write about?”

“It was just a long personal essay; nothing too serious,” he really didn’t want to talk about it. Not that Kevin was unworthy of knowing, rather that who liked talking about their family to someone who barely knew them? “He seems like a nice guy. Kind of.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him at a few school functions before. Always shows up when Michael shows up,” Kevin shrugged, unscrewing the lid to his water bottle. “Guess he’s real supportive of his younger siblings. Manny has more information on him, probably.”

“Manny?”

“Right, you haven’t met him yet,” Kevin amended, shrugging for a moment. “Well, I guess you saw him this morning but Samandriel’s his real name. He’s Nicodemus’ youngest brother.”

“Oh,” he should have figured the man had family; everyone did regardless of their relationship to them. “So his youngest brother…”

“Three of them,” Kevin corrected, poking at the vegetables on his tray with disinterest. “He has three younger siblings that go here. Samandriel is in our grade and a friend of mine; he’ll be here shortly. Castiel and Anna are sophomores; twins. The three of them are the most prominent family here. The Novaks are famous, though I suppose you already knew that.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured.”

“Kevin, who’s this?”

He hadn’t even registered the fact that there was someone next to him, another boy around his own age. He blinked quickly, wondering for a moment how the boy managed to come over without making a sound. He just sat himself down next to him, running a hand through his neat dark blonde hair. Kevin just looked from the boy to him. “Samandriel, this is Sam. He’s just transferred here. Sam, this is Samandriel.”

“Nice to meet you,” the other boy stuck his hand out, giving a friendly smile. “How are you liking the school?”

“It’s nice,” that wasn’t a lie, though a bit of an understatement. This school was definitely several steps up from his previous one. “It’s a lot nicer than my last one.”

The boy smiled again and Kevin just laughed. Samandriel looked over to the archway leading into the cafeteria, leaning up to wave at someone. “Cas and Anna said they’d join us for lunch,” he sounded excited. “Anna saw you earlier today and insisted we introduce ourselves. Not often we get new students. I think she said something about giving you an interview; she’s a journalist for our school newspaper.”

He spoke shyly, softly as if afraid someone would overhear him and make a comment. He was only a few inches taller than him and an inch shorter than Kevin. Despite not being fancily dressed like some of the students, he looked decent; well groomed. Now he wasn’t trying to be weird, but the boy was attractive. Hell, pretty much everyone at the school was attractive. Like their families had a really good gene pool or something that made everyone look perfect. Some of the girls, and a few of the boys, looked as if they could be models. 

Dean would be so jealous if he knew.

“So this is the new kid. He’s rather short.”

“Cas, don’t be rude!”

He almost fell off the chair he was sitting on, scowling at the amused smile on Kevin’s face. Two more teenagers had arrived at their table, the girl with deep red hair next to Kevin and the boy with the piercing deep blue eyes next to her. The girl smiled kindly at him, extending a manicured hand out to him. “Anna Novak. Nice to meet you. You’re Sam Winchester, right?”

“Yeah,” he took her hand, surprised by the firm grip. “Samandriel told me you work with the school newspaper.”

“Yup. I’ll probably be editor- in- chief next year if Metatron quits being a dick and finally lets a student have control.”

He had no idea who Metatron was, (though the name reminded him a transformer for some reason), but refrained from asking. She smirked and brushed a curtain of red hair back. The boy next to her, Castiel, stared at him with a penetratingly uncomfortable gaze. “So,” he spoke with a drawl, leaning back in his seat without touching the food on his tray. “What brings you to this hell hole?”

The rest of lunch was going to be long. 

***

He watched with vague interest as the big hand on the clock hit the twelve, a sound emerging from the golden orb that it was four o’clock. He sat in the lobby of Morningstar enterprises, back straight against the black leather couch he was currently occupying. His ordinary brown shoes look strange against the pristine white marble floor. The room was made entirely of marble, with him slightly underdressed compared to the men and women working.

They were dressed in smart suits and pencil skirts, sleek shoes clicking loudly against the floor as they walked. They completely ignored him, only sparing him a few glances here and there as they went about their business. Outside the glass swinging doors, the people of New York walked by without a care in the world; not paying a single ounce of attention to him. The lone thirteen year old boy who sat in the lobby of a building not knowing exactly what to do, or how long he was going to have to wait for his meeting.

“Sam Winchester?”

A woman appeared in front of him, entirely in a white business dress. Her blonde hair hung in long curls and her eyes were practically colorless. He didn’t like the look of her, and the way she smiled at him made his skin crawl. She approached him slowly, heels meticulously clacking against the floor. “Sam?” she asked once more, that skin crawling smile on her face. “Sam? Mr. Novak is ready to see you.”

He jumped to his feet, the woman only curling her lips upwards even more and turned her back to him. He followed her, stepping into the elevator with her and tried to avoid her soul piercing gaze. She didn’t speak for the longest time, choosing to stare straight ahead of her at the pair of silver doors. He couldn’t place why she made him feel uncomfortable, but as long as she wasn’t looking at him….

“Lilith,” she spoke, still not looking at him. “My name is Lilith. Mr. Novak has spoken quite a great deal about you. Quite the impression you made on him.”

“Thanks,” he nodded curtly, silently wishing she would not speak any further. Unfortunately, he was not that lucky.

“It’s very hard to impress Mr. Novak,” she spoke in a slow tone, almost sympathetic if not for the smirk replacing the smile. “You’re a very, very special boy, Sammy.”

“It’s, uh, Sam,” he tried to be polite; he really did. He hated being called Sammy and only certain people were allowed to call him that. This woman, Lilith, was definitely not one of them. “So, how long have you worked with him?”

“A while now,” she nodded her head, still keeping her gaze to the doors in front of her. “I’ve been with him since the beginning of this company. I’m usually in charge when he’s away; perks of being the best secretary.”

“The Best?”

“Morningstar enterprises has risen greatly in the past few years. Our CEO, Mr. Novak, has done tremendous work. With my help, among many others,” she spoke with pride, tossing her hair back and straightening her slim shoulders. “This company now rivals Sword of Heaven enterprise, something we take great pride in.”

The rest of the ride went on in silence. He shifted uncomfortably, hands fidgeting at his side. He felt tempted to take out his phone, to text Kevin or Samandriel to pass the time but he had the nagging feeling it wouldn’t fly over well with the woman. She seemed the type that demanded everyone’s attention; wouldn’t tolerate anything less. 

The elevator dings once they’ve reached the top floor, and he feels the anticipation grow. He knew Mr. Novak, but it had been months since he’d last seen him. Lilith stepped out of the elevator and he followed in pursuit, keeping a careful distance between them as she led the short distance to the office. Her slight hands pushed back the doors to the office, stepping in with confidence. “Mr. Novak,” she prevented him from looking over her shoulder, obstructing his view of his sponsor. “A Mr. Sam Winchester is here.”

“Oh, let him in, wouldn’t you?”

She opened the door further and stepped away, allowing him to step through the dark chestnut wood doors and into the large, spacious office. Bleach wood flooring mostly covered by a pristine white rug. Beige colored walls with two full glass windows overlooking the city. A dark cherry wood shelf attached to a drawer holding what looked to be books and files, with a few glasses of alcohol. Behind the main desk of the same wood design was another desk attached to a much larger shelf with books and other few momentos; framed plaques and certificates. A computer sat at the middle, with a man in a white business suit typing away at something. 

“Sam,” the man spoke, still not turning around to face him. “After all these months apart, we finally meet again.”

“Mr. Novak,” he stepped forward more, keepings his arms by his side as to not allow his hands to fiddle. “Thank you for sponsoring-”

“Please, have a seat. Make yourself at home, Sammy. And call me Nick; I really do hate formalities. They’re so stiff; so formal. It makes me sound like my brother.”

“Okay,” he took a seat in the black leather club chair in front of the desk, glancing momentarily to the other one right next to him. Nick looked at him with a serene gaze, his December blues staring into his own hazel green eyes. He shifted, trying to contain his nervousness. “Uh, thank you for helping me get into the school. Really, it’s such a privilege and an honor to get to go to this school.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem. Not really,” Nick shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back in his black leather office chair.  His fingers laced together against his chest and it looked rather odd to see a man look so relaxed yet confident at the same time, yet here this man was. The way he held himself despite being so laid back was nothing like he’d ever seen before, nor probably would ever see again. “You want to know something personal? I hated the school. Hated every single moment I had to spend in it. Too many rules; too many painful memories.”

Painful memories? He looked at the man, concealing his skepticism. From what he heard from Nick’s younger siblings, the man had been the most popular in the entire school, with everyone under his thumb and wrapped around his finger. He’d even been chosen to give the class speech even though he hadn’t been the valedictorian. Still, he supposed he didn’t know what his home life was like, or what his relationship with his family was.

On the man’s desk, aside from a few papers, a manila folder, and a two pens, were photographs. He knew at least three people in the photograph, though they appeared to be much younger in the pictures. Younger versions of Castiel, Anna and Samandriel, who were posing for a picture at Central Park. The photograph next to it had two people in, a boy and a girl in their teenage years with their arms wrapped around each other. The boy with a mischievous twinkle and the girl with dark brown, yet kind looking eyes. In the middle of the two photos, another one of a boy with tousled blonde hair a similar twinkle in his eye.  The on the right side of the desk there was a photograph of a man with neatly parted black hair and dark gray/blue eyes. He recognized him instantly as Michael Novak, Nick’s older brother and the CEO of Sword of Heaven enterprise.

The next photo was an older one, from around the early nineteen hundreds. A little girl, possibly around four or five with long black hair and dark eyes. A beautiful child who probably grew into a beautiful woman. A grandmother, perhaps?

“My family,” Nick waved a hand dismissively, glancing towards the photo of the two teens. “My younger brother and sister, Gabriel and Raphael. She used to have the cutest smile. She doesn’t smile much anymore. A shame, really.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, only that it reminded him vaguely of Dean. It was rare that his older brother smiled. Not an amused smile or smirk, but an actual genuine smile. When was the last time his brother had been truly happy? “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here,” Nick continued, in a casual, easy tone. “I’m not here to tell you rules and conditions because, let’s be real here Sammy, I don’t really care.”

“Then why am I here?” he asked, keeping it respectful of course. His gut feeling said that Nick was probably a lot more worse than Crowley, all based by the way he presented himself. 

“Your essay, as Lilith probably told you, impressed me quite a bit. I can relate to you, Sam. I don’t think I’ve ever come across another person whom I’ve had a similar life experience with,” Nick mused, eyes looking far away into a distant past he couldn’t even begin to figure out. “It’s refreshing, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I guess?”

“Let me tell you something,” Nick leaned forward suddenly, resting his chin on his hands. “I was always different from my family; the so called black sheep. My father, I could never relate to. The closest person I was with, my older brother, was the only one who cared. Then, we all grew apart. I was shunned; scorned by my family for thinking differently; for wanting to do things differently. Sound familiar?”

The scary thing was, he was right. He reflected back to his own father, who had been enraged once he found out he enrolled in St. Michael’s. If Dean hadn’t of been there when their father lost it, it would have been worse. If he really gave it thought, would his father have lost control and seriously hurt him?

“Yeah,” he nodded, hand gingerly resting on the fading bruise on his cheek. “It does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for now! Stay tuned for more. Meh, that's all I can think about for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry there's not a whole lot for the first chapter. The next one will be more eventful and will introduce other characters. It will be in Sam's p.o.v so that's something to look forward to. I love my moose!


End file.
